


The Darkest Symphony

by revolution_starter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Angst, Argents Are Bitches, Broody Derek, But she's a medium bitch, Cute Isaac, Even Allison, F/F, F/M, Famous Derek, Good Peter, He's still sassy but managable, Poor Stiles, Private School, Romance, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sheriff is a detective and not town sherrif, Student Stiles, Teacher Peter, Theo is an Argent - Freeform, Virtuoso Stiles, based on a book, slight BDSM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolution_starter/pseuds/revolution_starter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is a poor but talented musical virtuoso trying to make a name for himself in his cutthroat private school. Peter Hale is a disgraced teacher from a well-known and wealthy family trying to earn a second chance at Davenport Academy.</p><p>Their paths cross and nothing will ever be the same again.</p><p>(Please forgive the horrible synopsis)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having terrible luck with Mouths Full Of White Lies but I was messing around and this came to me. Hopefully you all enjoy it :)
> 
> P.S The first chapter always sucks

Stiles said a silent prayer in his head as he ran through the semi deserted sidewalk. His ancient alarm clock had finally given up the ghost and failed to wake him up before he did so. He’d woken up fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to. That meant no breakfast or food of any kind until lunch.

His Jeep had broken down a few days before. His school didn’t have a bus service meaning he had to run to the nearest public bus stop. His late awakening meant that he now had only three minutes before it left.

Today was not looking good already.

“Please be there,” He muttered under his breath. His Dad had an early shift at the station so he couldn’t give his son a ride. Scott went a regular public school and didn’t have a car so he was not an option. The bottom line was that if he missed this bus, he was screwed.

Davenport had a strict policy on arriving late for all school sanctioned activities. He was already walking on ice for some unknown reason since they had it out for him. Just one small slip up was what they wanted. A reason to boot him out of their precious blue blood exclusive school since he obviously didn’t fit in.

Stiles was determined not to give them a reason.

Not today.

“Oh thank goodness,” He breathed in relief when the bus turned out to be there. Fifty seconds and it would drive off. He summoned all the strength within himself and hopped unto the platform, handing the driver his crumpled notes and plopping down on a seat next to the windows.

Perhaps today wasn’t his unlucky day.

In his life there was going to be many more chances for ruin and pain. It had been proven before. Days like these he was thankful for. Small miracles and all. Better to acknowledge them and be thankful. His mother had taught him that particular tidbit. Not directly, but in the moments when she was too tired to even open her eyes some days, Stiles treasured each time he was able to catch a single smile from her lips. Before the disease took away that ability from her.

Fishing out his outdated Samsung from his pocket, Stiles connected the earphones and scrolled down his playlist to Scriabin’s Sonata No.9 for epic relief. The haunting notes cleared his mind and released all the mentally pent up energy. He closed his eyes subconsciously flexing his fingers as though he was the one playing this masterpiece.

People who heard him play told him he was talented. Prodigy was a word used several times to describe his skill. An angel with piano keys. He just thought himself as lucky. Music was both his salvation and his vice. It was what saved him during the dark days when nothing seemed to make sense. When his father was bleary eyed and shaky from too much rum. When his mother barely breathed and didn’t remember who anyone was.

It had given him a new reason to live. To survive. It was what his mother had wanted for him from the very beginning and his wishes were her wishes. 

With the school building in sight, Stiles reluctantly removed his earphones and hopped off the bus walking three more blocks to get to campus. The white and blue iron gates greeted him intimidating fashion as always. The campus was open air with blocks of classes for each grade in specific instead of one large school building. Each block was secluded within itself containing its own labs and specialty classrooms for each grade.

One of the reasons why Davenport was so sought after. It boasted of small, private classes where teachers could focus more on students.

People all over the state wanted to send their children there. Colleges practically welcomed their graduates with open arms.

If it were up to Stiles he wouldn’t even want to come here. The only reason was their state of the art music facilities he desperately needed. This school was his ticket to the outstanding musical career he wanted.

“Two minutes to the bell,” His other best friend Lydia Martin said as soon as he got inside the senior block doors. She was waiting with a cup of coffee from Beanie, Beacon Hill’s finest coffee establishment. Stile’s stomach mewled at the scent of delicious caffeine.

He shrugged “Woke up late. Not my fault.”

“You’re lucky you made it in before the bell rang. I saw Allison this morning and she said her mom is in a serious mood. Tardy giving mood I’m assuming,” Lydia said handing him the coffee. Stiles sipped it gratefully.

Lydia Martin was one of the few people who he actually got along with in this school. While other kids sneered at his cheap car and middle class upbringing, Lydia didn’t really give two shits. She was no nonsense and tough as well as beautiful. He and Scott were best friends out of school but Lydia was his in school buddy. It also helped that she was killer on the violin.

“Argent is always in a mood when it comes to me,” Stiles rolled his eyes “I can’t wait till graduation. Then I’ll never have to see her uptight judgey expression every again. What’s got her in a mood anyway?”

“Allison didn’t say much but I’m assuming it’s because we have a new musical programs coordinator,” Lydia explained. Of course Stiles had heard the news. The former coordinator, Mr. Green, had been given a chair on the Louisiana Orchestra full time and decided to take up the offer. It was only one week into the new term so of course finding a good enough replacement must have given Argent a serious headache.

“Maybe he’ll be good,” Stiles commented. Mr. Green had been nice enough and adequate in his field. He’d given Stiles the recommendation needed for his application to the Conservatory in Washington DC. A new teacher might mean that he had to start afresh proving himself but Stiles was convinced he could do it.

Lydia hummed “Hmm. Well we have approximately 20 seconds before the bell rings so we’ll definitely find out.”

“Don’t remind me,” He groaned linking his arm right into hers. It was a tough time but Stiles could endure it. He stuck out like a sore thumb in a crowd filled with limited edition iPhones and fancy cars but this was his last year.

Then he would apply to the Conservatory in DC like he dreamed. If he kept his head right in the game then nothing would stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

As the early morning faculty meeting finished, Peter Hale wearily watched his new colleagues desert the room. He remained seated at the table, waiting for the herd to disperse while watching Victoria Argent carefully out of the corner of his eye. She hadn’t shifted her authoritative stance from the head of the table, hadn’t given him as much as a glance since she introduced him to the faculty at the beginning of the meeting. But he was sure that she would, as soon as the room cleared up. No doubt she has one more agenda item to discuss.

Away from curious eyes.

“Mr. Hale,” her eyes cut to his as she glided across the marble floors, surprisingly quiet in her pretentious pumps, and closed the doors behind the last staff member.

“Quick words before you go please?” Peter knew that it would be more than a quick word. Victoria surely planned on thoroughly roasting him in a manner she thought would bend him. He itched at the chance to prove her wrong by abruptly shifting the odds away from her favor. Folding his hands on his lap to give the illusion of no wrong doing, Peter reclined in his chair crossing his ankles and preparing a depreciating smile to throw right at her. The thing he knew about women like Victoria Argent was that they always wanted something from everyone. Felt entitled to it. Her advantage was that she was powerful enough to secure it almost every time.

A skilled mistress at manipulation.

Victoria walked around the long table, her modest skirt-suit tailored to fit her slender frame. Twenty years his senior, she carried her age with remarkable elegance. High, pronounced cheekbones. Narrow, aristocratic features. Barely a wrinkle to be found anywhere. Her complexion was eerily pale. Her eyes were sharp with wit and cold detachment.

Just by looking at her alone it was easy to deduce that she was capable of heading a cutthroat private institution such as Davenport. She was a woman who took immense joy in scraping up the worth of people and dashing it under the foot of her heel. Such a trait was actually enviable in their side of the spectrum. One did not rise up to become the head of a school with such a renowned reputation by being sweet and caring. If Peter were a lesser man, her presence might have given him chills. Good thing he wasn’t. She sat down on the desk in front of him. The underside of her skirt shifted up slightly. Victoria immediately pulled it down without breaking eye contact. The idea that she thought it had done anything for him was laughable to Peter.

“How are you settling in back to town?” She asked.

Peter scoffed “Don’t pretend to be concerned. It doesn’t suit you well. Besides I’m not new to Beacon Hills and we both know that.”

“Fine,” Victoria didn’t waste time hitting business “Susan Hill’s attorney contacted me. As it turns out, she decided not to leave quietly.”

Peter remained unperturbed.  Perhaps Argent wasn’t a good as she’d made herself out to be. She hummed; holding on to her smile, but it was a tad tighter now. “I handled it as promised.”

“If you say so. Did you throw more money at it?” Her smile slips. “More than was warranted, the greedy bitch,” Her lips thin as she leans back in the chair and stared across the room. “Anyway, it’s all been swept under the rug.” Peter relaxed his mouth in half-smile, a deliberate signal of amusement. “Second guessing our arrangement already?”

She flicked her gaze back to him. “You’re a risk, Peter.” It only mildly surprised him that she had used his first name. A sign that she was making her statement personally and not just professionally. Taunting him without reproach. It took a remarkable amount of self-control for Peter to refrain himself from lashing out the acidic words lodged down in his throat.

Instead he smiled.

Mockingly.

“And yet you clambered up almost immediately to scoop me up as soon as I became available,” He pointed out.

Victoria gave a smile of her own “Don’t forget Mr. Hale, I do things that I know will strictly benefit me. `If it were not for what I was sure you could offer me, do you really think you’d be sitting down here? No, you’d be standing in some pathetic line with the rest of the masses, clambering to collect unemployment.”

“What makes you think you were my only option?” Peter asked. “How many offers have you received after your resignation from Hillcrest?” She asked. Peter hated how she had a point. The stint at Hillcrest had singlehandedly damaged his career in teaching circles. While the other corners of the music world would remain untouched, no reputable school wanted to risk touching him with a ten foot pole after learning just a fraction of what had happened. Hillcrest managed to keep it under the wraps but the unfortunate truth was that people talked. Rumors were twisted and turned from several angles. Peter was certain that his name had come up in place and from mouths he’d preferred it not to.

“Remember our agreement,” Her elbows press against her sides, her eyes overly bright, almost glassy. “Keep your mouth shut and let me herd the sheep and their frivolous chatter.” She spoke as though Peter was supposed to be impressed by her words. Teachers would gossip. He knew that. Her ability to cull it wasn’t a remarkable attribute. She was doing so because despite her self-assured front, Victoria Argent was nervous.

She’d made a calculated risk in hiring Peter. If a member of her staff managed to dig deeper than they were supposed to, it would surely jeopardize Davenport’s reputation. Something she’d kill herself before allowing to happen. Peter rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip, delighting in the way her eyes reluctantly follow the movement. She found him attractive. Good call. The skin above her buttoned collar flushed.

“It’s paramount that we keep the attention on your achievements as an educator.” She lifts her chin. “I expect you to set a professional example in the classroom.”

“Do not tell me how to do my job.” He was a well-respected instructor before he climbed the administrative ranks. Fuck her and her self-righteous audacity.

Victoria smiled tightly “Then I would be happy if you kept that memory intact. You’ll need it here and nothing else. Your previous perversions better not rear its head again.” As if he really needed another reminder of why he resigned from Hillcrest. It was time to turn this around on her.

Peter leaned forward “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

Victoria didn’t waver “To remind you of what you will not be doing in my school.”

Peter grinned, his signature sharp canine grin “Or are you really that curious about my exploits?” Her eyes shook for a moment. This was too easy. “Don’t be disgusting.” He shrugged “Not many people see it that way. Especially not Jennifer, the way she reacted each time I took her hard with my cock.”

“Shut up!” Victoria looked flushed and on her way to becoming extremely furious. It had been done. Her buttons had finally been pushed the way he wanted. For once the upper hand had been snatched right from underneath her.

“Sorry,” He chuckled insincerely.

“Repeat such behavior and I’ll make sure that you’ll never teach again in your life,” Her threat was culled right out of the feelings she’d experienced a moment ago. It did nothing to make Peter afraid of her.

“You may go now.” He stood up, walked to the door and paused before turned back to her “Do tell, I’ve been meaning to ask. What has your sweet daughter done to warrant such service?”

Her protective instincts came on instantly “Allison has done nothing.”

“Then why is all this necessary?” Victoria paused for a moment “I love my daughter very much. Securing a place for her where she deserves is hardly a questionable thing. Now Mr. Hale I believe you do need to address your new students. Slacking on the first day of school won’t look good for you.” The deal had been to get her daughter spoiled princess of a daughter into the Conservatory. That had been the deal. She would pay Susan Hill, the assistant Dean of Hillcrest Prep to keep the scandalous affair involving Peter under the wraps. In turn Peter would use his immense connections in the music world to make sure that Allison Argent would be given a place at the Arts Conservatory in Washington D.C, the highest ranked college for the arts in the country, for doing absolutely nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the hiatus. And the short chapter.

What do you have first Stiles?” Allison asked, ever polite and smiling.

Stiles closed his locker without glancing at her “Musical Theory.” He’d had this conversation with her far too many times that he’d liked. He had no problem with Scott dating and doting on her. What he did have a problem with was Allison trying her hardest to pretend to like him just for the sake of their mutual person. “I have Piano Seminar earlier due to some weird thing with the office. We got a new instructor apparently,” She said playing with her expensively manicured fingers.

“I’ll have him too then,” Stiles answered blandly retrieving his books.

“Great,” She sealed the conversation. “I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Allison. Stiles thought she was a decent human being. Well, as decent as one could be in an elite jungle of a school like Davenport. He even preferred her to her brother Theo who was an asshole in his own right. The real reason Stiles had a hard time truly relating to Allison was because they were both aiming towards the same time: a place at the Conservatory in DC. It wasn’t an easy thing to like your competition. Even with her connection to Scott it was still a mission for Stiles. He could also admit to himself that he was slightly envious of the opportunities she had which surpassed his. Her mother, Victoria Argent, was a notable figure in the ranks and would definitely have enough connections to place her daughter wherever she wanted. Luckily, favors and legacy wasn’t just enough in the music world. That was where talent came in handy.

The Dean’s dislike of Stiles came solely from the fact that he was unmistakably talented. At the end of the day, there were only a handful of spots for pianists at the Conservatory. Everyone wanted to succeed. Hence the tension. But then again it must have meant something if Allison was willing to true. Perhaps she was the better person. Stiles couldn’t afford the luxury of being decent.

Not when he would have to work ten times harder to get what he wanted. His place in Davenport was a miracle and sacrifice wrapped into one. He’d make friends with his fellow competitors in another life perhaps.

“Hey Stinky.” The snickers had begun. He sighed.

Would making fun of the middle class kid ever get old in this place?

Apparently not.

_“I heard he’s a fag.”_

_“Isn’t his Dad like a public servant or something?”_

_“Probably sucks dick to pay his tuition.”_

The jabs were not creative but penetrated occasionally. So he’d didn’t have money to buy spend on trivialities. His Dad made just enough money from his job as a detective. Their house was livable. He wasn’t starving. Sure sometimes they were behind one or two bills. His Dad didn’t let him get a job so that he could have all the time to practice even though the extra money would have helped at least. But he was content. At this stage nothing mattered to Stiles but getting into the Conservatory. It was a full ride scholarship with his name stuck right to it and he was going to work for every penny of it. If the method was to endure tasteless insults all day, he was happy to let them glide off his skin like slime.

The last half of his day is in Room 1A. All taught by a Hale. At first there’s an excited wretch in his gut at the sight of the name Hale. Famous violinist who took the world by storm in his youth and draws crowds like a flame. But the feeling was quenched when common sense reminded him that Derek Hale is a perpetual superstar touring the world with the London Symphony Orchestra. He definitely wouldn’t throw it all away for a small time gig at an overpriced high school. Stiles then resorted to scowling at this imposter Hale in whose hands laid his future now that Mr. Green was gone.

During English Lit, he overheard some of the girls blabbing about the hotness that is Mister Hale, but he hadn’t worked up the nerve to wander over to Room 1A yet. The only class Stiles shared with Lydia was Math so he guaranteed to be all alone. Joy.

“Hey Stinky,” He heard a snicker behind him on the hallway. That same stupid grin and floppy hair greeted Stiles, filling him with the overwhelming urge to hit his head against the concrete until he passed out. “Theo,” He responded unenthusiastically. Allison’s charming brother, Theo Argent. The prep school cliché whom no story would ever be complete without. Hot as hell, rich as hell and topped off with the attitude of a skunk.

An asshole above and beyond. Also, Stiles’ personal harasser.

“You look hot,” Theo commented, complimentary smirk in place.

Stiles rolled his eyes “I’ll take a compliment from you the day hell freezes. Leave me alone.”

“We both know I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” Theo said moving closer towards him. Carefully of course. The school’s golden boy couldn’t be seen doing anything other than telling Stiles how worthless he was.

“Then I really have nothing else to look forward to in life,” Stiles replied in tow. “Now excuse me. I have class.”

“Careful, your sneakers are falling apart,” Theo casually pointed out as Stiles attempted to powerwalk away from it. It hit mildly seeing as it wasn’t a complete lie. His shoes were a little worn. Another year and he would need to replace them. But there was no way he was going to let that over-pampered lizard know that.

He fake gasped “Oh wow. I’m so touched. I hope that in whatever Law School Mommy drops you in they teach better retorts. Just saying.” He didn’t wait to see the scowl on the other boy’s face before turning on his heel and heading to class.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up for all things Sterek/Steter and literary at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thatreclusewriter


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